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essay will be profitable to all classes of way, the estimate which men made of of our readers.]

ON PAROCHIAL VISITATIONS.

MESSRS. EDITORS,-As most of you are clergymen, I think I can rely on you to publish the few remarks I send you, on a department of ministerial duty, which, I believe, clergymen in general discharge with less satisfaction to their people, than most others connected with their office-I mean parochial visitations. I believe there are few clergymen, even among the most conscientious, who are not often pained at heart by the complaints, and almost the reproaches of their people, for not visiting so much as they ought. These expostulations are meant, no doubt, in kindness; but when the poor pastor finds himself accused at every door, of "being a great stranger," of "having forgotten them," of "not having called for a great while," the repetition of the charge, with the consequent apologies, becomes burdensome in the extreme; the pleasure, as well as profit, of parochial visits is greatly diminished, and it requires a considerable share of Christian philosophy to perform them with a good grace.

Few laymen, I presume, are accurately acquainted with the extent of duties imposed on a clergyman, who has the charge of an extensive parish. They acknowledge, perhaps, that he has considerable to do; but take him, on the whole, to be a man of much leisure. Of the exhausting and debilitating effects of prolonged study in the composition of sermons, they can, of course, know but little. They have no suspicion that the feelings of the labourer, who retreats tired to his dwelling, when his day's work is done, are enviable feelings, when compared with those of the student, worn down, and shattered, and debilitated to the last degree, by the fatigues which usually follow a course of mental exertion. "Men err in nothing," says Cecil, "more than in the estimate which they make of human labour." Describing, in his lively

his labours in his study, he says, “he makes a sermon on the Saturday, he gets into his study; he walks from end to to end, he scribbles on a scrap of paper, he throws it away and scribbles on another, he takes snuff, he sits down, scribbles again, walks about.' The man cannot see that here is an exhaustion of the spirit, which, at night, will leave me worn to the extremity of endurance. He cannot see the numberless efforts of mind, which are crossed, and stifled, and recoil on the spirits; like the fruitless efforts of a traveller to get firm footing among the ashes on the steep sides of Mount Etna."

Were these labours less than they are, we should not so often have to read the melancholy tale of promising young men cut down in the beginning of a career of useful exertion; of their falling martyrs to the pursuit of knowledge, and eminent usefulness in their profession. But they are labours, of which the major part of a congregation can be supposed to know little or nothing. They are unseen, they are not fully taken into account; and therefore plead little in excuse for the minister's not being so much with his people as they think he might.

Besides, the man has, perhaps, from fifty to one hundred and fifty families on his list of parishioners, each of whom has equal claims on his attention. Now, it might reasonably be claimed as a piece of justice towards him, that his people should take the trouble to compute how many times in the year he can make the entire circuit in his visitings, allowing at the same time for those multiplied special calls of duty which must be attended to. They should remember also, that, whether indisposed or in health; with buoyant spirits, or with spirits worn down with anxiety and mental labour, he is expected to be at his post on a Sunday, prepared to give his customary discourses, whether they are there to hear him or not. If he has spent his week, or any considerable

part of it, in visiting, his people may be gratified by it, but his sermons will neither be very profound nor edifying. There can be no doubt but that the members of a congregation are pleased with the attention of a beloved pastor; and the desire of rendering himself useful, as well as the pleasure of a pastoral intercourse with his people, will, at all times, be a sufficient inducement to visit them as often as his other duties will permit. The people ought to be persuaded of this; nor can they, in justice, constitute themselves judges of what he can perform in the way of visiting, without prejudice to the other departments of his duty. "The lips of the priest should keep knowledge; for the people seek the law at his mouth." He cannot be expected to rise even to mediocrity in his profession, without giving a considerable portion of his time to study; and so long as the people are persuaded that he is labouring for their good, they ought to be will ing to relinquish the pleasure of seeing him more frequently at their houses, than is consistent with the successful prosecution of his studies.

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On the other hand, the advantages of personal intercourse with his people are so great, that he will seize every opportunity of enforcing in private what has been delivered from the pulpit, and "testify from house to house,

converse with them so little, as watch. men over their souls. The pastors of the foreign protestants outdo us greatly in this respect, and are honoured in proportion. The Romish priests have their laity under their hands, on one account or another, almost continually, and acquire by it an absolute dominion over them. Both the old dissenters from our church, and those who are now forming new separations, gain and preserve a surprising influence among their followers, by personal religious intercourse. Why should not we learn from them?"

By stating this part of the clergyman's duty, I hope I shall clear myself of the suspicion of pleading the cause of an indolent minister, who thinks he has nothing more to do than to appear in his pulpit at the stated hours of service. I have merely wished to suggest to a class of your readers, the variety and extent of a clergyman's engage. ments; and that, although he may be prevented from holding as much personal intercourse with his people as both he and they could desire, he may still be watching for their souls with all the painful solicitude of one who feels that he must give an account.

DIAKONOS.

For the Gospel Advocate. EXTRACT FROM THE MESSIAH.

repentance towards God, and faith in Translated from the original German of

the Lord Jesus Christ." He "will not cease to warn every one, day and night," but "be instant in season, and out of season;" at stated times, and when opportunities of doing good occur; not forcing advice upon persons when it is more likely to do harm than good, but watching for the mollia tempora fandi, the happy occasions of speaking and admonishing with effect. "A chief reason"-says the admirable Secker, whose two last charges to the clergy of the diocese of Canterbury, ought to lie on the table of every minister"a chief reason, why we have so little hold on our people is, that we

Klopstock.

(Continued from p. 195.)

BOOK II.

goes

and

Argument. The souls of the blessed perceive the Saviour awaking at the break of day, and salute him with songs of holiness. Jesus hears from Raphael, John's guardian angel, that this disciple is engaged in behold. ing a man possessed by satan. He finds Samina (for so he is called) ready to be destroyed by the fiend, enrag'd at his ap proach. Jesus replies nothing to the proud speech of the arch enemy, but the latter is compelled to fly before him. Samma is with Jesus among the tombs. Satan seeks freed from his pangs, and John remains alone his hell; relates what he has seen; and determining on the death of the Saviour, in a

speech to his subjects, is opposed by Abbadona, a fallen angel. Satan is unable to reply from rage, but Adramelech answers for him and approves of every thing the fiend has said, as likewise all the counsel of hell. Satan and Adramelech seek the earth to put their designs into execution, and Abbadona follows at a distance. He sees at the gates of hell another, Abdiel, a good angel, and his former friend. He speaks sorrowfully to him; but the other will not look upon him. Abbadona then goes through the gate, and at the entrance of the world laments his lost heaven, and doubts of ever being pardoned. After some time he attempts to annihilate himself, but in vain. Satan and Adramelech, in the mean time, full of rage and malice, approach the Mount of Olives.

Now had the morn above the cedars beam'd
And Jesus rose, and those within the sun
Saw him, and straight two heav'n-born spirits
sang,

Adam and gentle Eva, raptur'd thus.

Adam.

Loveliest of days, O hail: hallow'd be thou
Before each future day; amid the train
Of thy companions, thou art loveliest.
When thou returns't, the blessed souls of men
And seraphs shall salute from east to west.
Descendest thou to earth, the heavens shall
sound

With orions loud pealed; seek'st thou God
Amid his sanctuary with thy beams,
There, too, shall hallelujahs mount sublime
And find thee there. Hail thou ne'er dying
day

That to our sight the Christ discoverest,
Earth's meek Messias ip his lowliness:
O Saviour, loveliest in thy mortal garb
Of Adam's race, how on thy front reveal'd
Stands Godliness; and shows thee as thou
art.

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Of virtue, now defaced lie, no storm No desolating angel will'd to save ; Thou art e'er lost. But humble Bethlehem, 'Twas mid thy walls the sacred mother bore him,

Thou art mine Eden; David's holy fount Shall soft for Eva flow, as the springs where first

She saw herself eternal, Lowly shed,
From whence his plaintive cry first issued
forth,

O be to her the bowers of innocence.
Had'st thou, O Godly one, first clasped me
Mid Eden's bowers, when that dread deed
was o'er

Of fatal disobedience, I had gone
With thee to where the God of terrours
stood;

To where beneath him Eden yawned a tomb,
And that forbidden tree of knowledge wav'd
So awfully behind; where voices spake
The curse that thunders hail'd, those words
of might

At which I sunk to earth; and sunk to die.
O then amid those terrours close embrac'd
I would have held the Saviour and ex-
claim'd:

Father of heaven have mercy; still thy wrath!

Lo thine own Son against thy breast reclines.

Adam.

Hallow'd art thou and praiseworthy, O God; Thou, who hast given thine own immortal Son From thy blest image form'd to save the

race,

The tear-doom'd race of Adam! God hath heard

My sighs; and seraphs and the souls above Of those that sleep among my sons have view'd

My grief o'erfurrow'd cheeks. Were't not for thee,

Balmy Messias, I had yet complain'd
Amid my still repose: but thy mild love
Hath pitied, shelter'd; and thy saving hand,
O Christ, has learnt the sorrower blessed-

ness.

And now, O Mediator, deignest thou
To wear the form of man condemn'd to
dust.

Praises be to thee, Saviour, finish soon
Thy sacrifice of mercies; and renew
That earth for which thou hast not once dis-
dain'd

To leave the skies: save, save thy natal earth,

Thine and thy creatures'; then re-seek the heaven

And hear thy gentle mercies hail'd around: God-man, Redeemer !

Thus spoke the voices of the souls throughout The vault with rays o'erspread, while far below

Messias heard them; so do hermits hear,
In thoughts on future wrapp'd amid the calm
Of their own solitudes, the wandering voice
Of earth's Creator; even so did Christ,
Hearing the far-tun'd sounds, ascend the
mount.

Full in the middle of the Olive hill
Stood loftiest palms, on green mounds rais'd,

each dew'd

With morning's spangled mists; their shades

beneath.

Messias heard the voice of him, who watch'd In spirit guise around the soul of John ; Raphael his name. And gales soft flitting

bore

Towards Christ his speech, unheard by mortal ear.

Raphael, the Saviour cried, with looks of love,

Come wander near me viewless to mankind;
And tell me, how hast thou inspir'd the soul
Of the belov'd disciple thro' the night?
Are his thoughts like to thine, O Raphael?
So pure? so fervent? where doth he retreat?
I have watch'd o'er him, cried the cherubim,
Like as an angel loves to guard what Christ
His chosen calls, and hallow'd dreams contain
His pious soul: dreams that were bent on
thee,

O! had'st thou seen him, midst his slumbers start

To look upon the Saviour; had'st thou view'd How o'er his front beam'd bright the smile of spring!

Oft has thy seraph look'd along the bowers Of Eden, when the first one slept, and smil'd To see the face of Eva in his dreams, Thinking upon th' Eternal; yet even he Seem'd scarcely then so lovely as thy John. But sadly, now, he sits, where their dark shades

The prophets' tombs throw forth; bemoaning

there

A wretch, who paler than the dead around, And trembling awfully lies stretch'd, the prey Of man's worst enemy. Shedding soft tears Of pity and compassion, may'st thou see Close by him thy disciple. Ev'n mine eye Dropt fast the kindly tear.. I went; but still My soul is pierced at the ills of those Thyself hast destin'd for eternity.

He ceas'd: Messias look'd with wrath to wards heaven

And spake; O hear me, Father; let the fiend Of man before thy justice-seat be brought, A sacrifice eternal, that the skies

May know with shouts of joy, and hell be

hold

Beneath her depths, shameful and agoniz'd!

Thus he; and slow the prophets' tombs approach'd!

'Mongst mountains, ever cover'd with the

veil

Of midnight, are they hewn from out a pile Of rocks, which chaos-like together lie, Thick dark'ning groves the entrance e'er forbid

To the maz'd wanderer; a gloomy morn There but begins to reign when mid-day's beams

Spread o'er Jerusalem: ev'n then no light of sun congenial cheers those rocks within, And nought save damp cold breezes issue forth.

'Twas there beside his youngest infant's grave Feeble and senseless Samma sat; for thus Was the poor maniack call'd. Saten had

spar'd

This hour of quiet, only to prolong
With fresher agonies his torment. Near,
With eyes that bitterly wept up to God,
Stood yet another son; and him, whom each
Thus mourned, by a tend rest mother late
Among those graves was borne; for "was
toward

That scene of awe the fiend in hellish rage
Th' extenuated victim lov'd to drag.
Alas! my father, cried his little son,
The tender young Benoni, and escap'd
From out the fearful mother's grasp; alas!
Father embrace me. As he spoke he press'd
The hand paternal to his heart. He felt it;
The hapless sire and trembled. But, when
mov'd

By childhood's soft emotions strove the boy
That father to caress and smil'd in bliss,
Down 'gainst a rock sharp pointed was he

dash'd

By th' unnatural hand, and o'er the stone Burst forth the blood of innocence; the soul Scap'd with slight sobs towards its native

heaven!

And now inconsolate he wail'd o'er him
Clasping with dying hands, of his son's bones
The cold receptacle. Alas! my son,
My murder'd son, he cried, and tears of wo
Broke from an eye, that death had all but
clos'd!

Thus lay he, as the Saviour drew anear.
Joel, the other son, had hid his face
Glist'ning with tears, beyond the father's
view.

But, as he saw Messias reach those graves; Father, he cried with joyful wonder, see, Jesus, the mighty prophet, comes among us! The arch-fiend heard and trembling look'd

amaz'd

From forth the op'ning of the vaulted tomb. So the false prophet looks from out his cave, When the loud thunder breaks across the

heaven,

And vengeance rolls on clouds. Satan, till And wish'd to crush; yea, ev'n beneath

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thine eye,

Almighty! But thou viewedst him, O Christ, And quickly bad'st the wings of mercy bear Thy creature, that he fell not. Satan knew, And trembled at the coming Godhead. Peace

Beam'd from the front of Jesus, on the wretch,

That lay before him; and reviving force Glanc'd from him, as he look'd: and Samma

now

Knew his Redeemer; and the tide afresh Of life resought his agonized front. (To be continued.)

RELIGIOUS INTELLIGENCE.

THE thirty-eighth annual convention of the protestant Episcopal church in the state of Pennsylvania assembled in St. Peter's church, in the city of Philadelphia, on Tuesday the 7th, and was continued by adjourn ment until Thursday the 9th of May, 1822. The clergy of that diocese consist of the bishop, twenty-six presbyters, and four deacons Of the presbyters six are without cures, one is president of the college, and one a master of the grammar school, leaving eighteen presbyters and four deacons, who have the cure of souls. The number of congregations in Philadelphia county are 5 Delaware county 4-Chester 3-Lancaster 4-Bucks 1-Montgomery 3--Berks 1-Northampton 1-Northumberland 2Columbia 2-Lycoming 1-Luzerne 1Bradford 1-Susquehannah 2-York 1 Adams -Cumberland 1-Huntingdon 1 Alleghany 1. Total in 19 counties, 36 congregations. Ten of the clergy were absent, and 23 congregations only were represented, by 41 lay delegates.

Episcopal Acts.

Confirmations in nine parishes
Ordinations-Priest 1, Deacons 4
Candidates admitted

(and one transferred to the diocese of New York)

Churches consecrated

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The bishop expresses his satisfaction at the new organization of the general theological seminary, and the hope that there will now be an undivided wish and endeavour to support an institution begun under such favourable prospects.

Concerning the plan of a general domestick and foreign missionary society, matured at the meeting of the special general convention last autumn, he thus observes :

"It had been proposed by the convention

of 1820, but with defects, occasioned by oversight, which prevented the co-operation of so great a proportion of our communion, as discouraged any effective proceedings on the part of the nominated trustees. The defects have been supplied; sundry important improvements have been added; and the whole organization having been matured with care, and resolved on with general consent, it is to be hoped, that all the members of our communion will take an interest in carrying the design into effect."

Attached to the society for the advancement of Christianity in Pennsylvania, “is a female tract society which continue their exertions in publications, small in size, but eminently instructive."

The prayer-book society, in consequence of gratuitous distributions beyond their means, are obliged to confine themselves to sell to subscribers at the least possible price; and by this economy hope to retrieve their affairs.

"The Sunday school society," the bishop observes, 66 are pursuing the object for which they were associated. It should be understood, that the object is distinct from that of any Sunday school society formed for the giving of instruction. It is merely for the cheaper supplying of societies of the latter description, with elementary and other necessary books; and in this work they are likely to be useful."

The bishop recommends to the clergy to consider the importance of the fund of the society for the widows and children of deceased clergymen, and he very delicately brings to the view of the convention "the design of creating a fund for the support of a future bishop, so as to relieve him from the necessity of having a parochial cure."

On the subject of the bible society, the bishop thus remarks: "Although the biblę

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